


Angel Proofing

by TheGirlWithBrightEyes



Series: Fragments of Life [19]
Category: Good Omens (TV), Good Omens - Neil Gaiman & Terry Pratchett
Genre: Bad Cooking, Caring Aziraphale (Good Omens), Cooking, Crowley Loves Aziraphale (Good Omens), Ineffable Husbands (Good Omens), M/M, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, Pyrophobia, Slice of Life, South Downs Cottage (Good Omens)
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-11-14
Updated: 2019-11-14
Packaged: 2021-01-30 15:40:34
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,492
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21430618
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TheGirlWithBrightEyes/pseuds/TheGirlWithBrightEyes
Summary: Aziraphale decides that he wants to cook dinner. Crowley realises that the cookbook isn't angel proofed.Rated Teen for language.
Relationships: Aziraphale/Crowley (Good Omens)
Series: Fragments of Life [19]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1411597
Kudos: 88





	Angel Proofing

**Author's Note:**

> I absolutely love the idea that Crowley can cook, and wondered if Aziraphale can, too. Then it struck me that Aziraphale would want extremely detailed instructions, which a regular cookbook just doesn't have...
> 
> Note: Junior is a car that Aziraphale got earlier in this series. ;)

"What's this?" Crowley asked curiously as he helped Aziraphale sort out his shopping after the angel had been out on his maiden journey alone with Junior. "Another book," he commented as he peeked into the bag. He'd long since stopped being surprised that Aziraphale found the necessity to hoard more books - possibly somewhere around the 13th century.

"Ah, yes. You may have a look if you want to," Aziraphale said, glancing briefly over his shoulder from where he was filling up the fridge and, Crowley noted, the new purchases seemed to consist largely of groceries which was a bit of a surprise.

"Nah, books don't do much for me," Crowley muttered, making a move to put it down.

"It's not really a book. Well, not like you think, anyway. Do go ahead, my dear," Aziraphale said, this time smiling. Crowley slipped it out of the bag, staring at it. "It's a cookbook, my dear."

"Cookbook," Crowley echoed, brows shooting up. "You going to cook something?"

"Well, I was planning to," Aziraphale said, straightening up to give Crowley his full attention. "There isn't much in way of restaurants out here so I thought, why not?" Crowley couldn't really fault him there so he shrugged, flipping the cookbook briefly before he put it down.

"Going to make dinner then? What'll it be?" he asked curiously. Interest piqued, Crowley decided to look forward to it. He couldn't recall ever having seen Aziraphale cook before but figured that considering his appetite he was bound to be fairly good at it.

"I've had a look and purchased some ingredients, but I haven't decided yet. Is it okay for it to be a bit of a surprise?" he said slightly anxiously and Crowley snorted. He stepped over to bury his nose in Aziraphale's neck, slipping his arms around him.

"Course, angel. Surprise dinner sounds good to me." Aziraphale laughed lightly at that, patting the top of his head which was about the only place he could reach.

"I can't promise it will be any good though, but I'll certainly try!" he said cheerfully. He then proceeded to make himself a cup of cocoa and brought the cookbook with him out in the living room. Crowley couldn't help it, a silly grin spread across his face as he followed him. Only his angel would read a cookbook like a regular book. He didn't exactly mind, it gave him the opportunity to curl up with his head on Aziraphale's lap. He quite enjoyed it when the angel would pet his hair or caress his shoulders whenever both of his hands weren't occupied. It was relaxing.

It was nearing dinnertime by the time Aziraphale wriggled out from underneath Crowley and kissed his head tenderly before covering him a blanket.

"I'll just start on dinner, my love," he said softly and left him there, snugly wrapped in a blanket but without his warm pillow. Half asleep already Crowley dozed off for a while, before being rudely awakened by a shrill noise that tore through the room. He sat up at a daze, confused brain trying to understand what was going on.

"Whu-" he managed sleepily, looking around.

"You stop that this _instant_!" he heard Aziraphale yell from the kitchen, cutting off the noise instantly. "That's better." Crowley then heard shuffling of Aziraphale's (tartan) slippers and his angel appeared in the doorway with a rather troubled expression. "Oh Crowley, I am ever so sorry! Of course that thing would wake you up."

"Whus goin' on?" Crowley managed intelligently as Aziraphale made his way over to him.

"Oh, nothing at all. There was a small accident in the kitchen. Set the fi-...the alarm off." Crowley blinked at him. Then blinked again before the dots connected despite Aziraphale avoiding to actually say the word.

"The f-fire alarm?" Crowley stuttered, all internal alarms going off at once. They had installed them to guard against fires because of Crowley's pyrophobia but they had never actually been tested before. Aziraphale winced, taking his trembling hands.

"Well, yes, but the silly old thing went off without any fire!" Aziraphale explained quickly and Crowley went 'oh', fighting to calm his heart that had rapidly gained speed. "It was just a bit of smoke but it's gone now." Crowley nodded slowly, licking his lips, still feeling as if he'd run a mile.

"Angel..."he said carefully, trying to breathe slowly. "Have you never cooked before?" To his surprise, Aziraphale's ears went red.

"W-well..."he started and Crowley stared at him, ready to protest if Aziraphale got it into his head to lie to him again. "If you must know, then no. I actually haven't." Crowley groaned and fell back against the sofa, thoroughly annoyed with himself for reacting like this and slightly annoyed that he had no warning this could happen.

"For Heaven's sake, angel, I thought you knew what you were doing," he managed, withdrawing his hands to press the heels of them to his eyes. "Setting off the bloody alarm is not good for my nerves. Fuck," he said shakily. Then there were warm hands on his as Aziraphale pried them away from his face, kissing his nose. He smelled faintly of burned food, but nothing else that would set Crowley off.

"I'm ever so sorry, love. I didn't think that would happen," he said apologetically, caressing Crowley's face. "Deep breaths now. You're doing wonderfully." Crowley exhaled shakily before managing to sit up, wearily leaning his forehead on Aziraphale's shoulder.

"I'm looking forward to the day this isn't a fucking problem anymore," he said weakly. "Next time you cook I'm hiding in the garden." Aziraphale laughed nervously at that, hand coming up to caress Crowley's neck.

"Maybe I should have started with something that didn't require using the stove," he muttered and Crowley could only wholeheartedly agree.

"Either that or asked me to help you," he drawled, taking a final deep breath before sitting up properly. "All right, angel. Show me what you were trying to do."

In all honesty, Aziraphale's attempted dish wasn't all that complicated, at least not if you were not an angel and needed over the top detailed instructions taking everything in the kitchen you were using into account. The reason why the smoke detector had reacted was because apparently the cookbook author and Aziraphale had different ideas what 'medium heat' was and it _had_ said fry four minutes on each side. So Aziraphale had.

"The middle number isn't medium?" Aziraphale said confusedly as Crowley pointed this out. "Oh it would have been so much easier if it had just said a number in the recipe..."Crowley clicked his tongue, deciding whether it was worth pointing out that different stoves had different numbers on them but decided against it. Instead he pulled out a pen from his pocket and adjusted the recipe slightly, his angel looking curiously over his shoulder.

"Should be fairly angel safe now," Crowley finally muttered, stepping aside. "But I'll stay right here and watch." He made himself a cup of coffee and plonked down by the kitchen table as Aziraphale started over.

It didn't take long before Crowley reconsidered his decision to stay in the kitchen and not hide in the garden, because while he had improved the recipe it was a long shot from 'angel safe'. Aziraphale asked so many questions on details that as they neared the end of the excruciating process of making dinner - at least according to Crowley, he more or less lay on the chair, staring at the ceiling and answering all questions with an air of so deep exasperation he sounded quite sleepy.

"I didn't know you could cook, I thought you said you didn't do it much," Aziraphale said finally once the food was on the plates. "Oh dear, are you all right, love? You're more on the floor than the chair." Crowley sat up with some effort.

"Just 'cause I don't cook much doesn't mean I can't," he drawled, looking down on his plate as Aziraphale put it before him. It didn't look half as bad as expected and it smelled all right. "'specially once I invented those expensive cooking lessons for fashionable people."

"Oh. Right," Aziraphale said, pouring himself a drink. "And...what did you call them? Cooking shows?" Crowley shrugged.

"Sure. Speaking of which, you might like those, actually." He then paused, eyeing the mess on the kitchen worktop. "Once you've gotten past the beginner stage, that is..."he mumbled. Aziraphale hummed as he started eating.

"Well, for a first try I think this is fairly good," he tittered happily and Crowley couldn't help himself. He smiled fondly, the exasperation from minutes ago bleeding off and he almost - almost, offered to help the angel next time, too.

Angel proofing the cookbook might prove difficult, but at least he could make some adjustments to avoid the most obvious culinary catastrophes. And he could offer to cook once in a while, too.


End file.
